


Push

by theimaginesyouneveraskedfor



Category: The Devil All the Time (2020)
Genre: Abuse, Dark fic, F/M, Mentions of Death, Name Calling, Oral, Swearing, The Devil All The Time - Freeform, dark!fic, handjob, lee bodecker - Freeform, noncon, some violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:47:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27046726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theimaginesyouneveraskedfor/pseuds/theimaginesyouneveraskedfor
Summary: Warnings: noncon sex, oral, mentions of violence, abuse, and death.This is Lee Bodecker (who is already dark!af) and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.Summary: Your daddy’s in business with the Sheriff but a dirty cop has not limits.
Relationships: Lee Bodecker/Reader
Comments: 22
Kudos: 164





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note: This is my first Lee Bodecker fic. Obviously it’s a dark on so mind the warnings. Lee is just awful. Like what a bastard, the worst! I'm also obv exploring some new characters so suggestions if theyre anyone I'm familiar with.
> 
> Hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Love you guys!
> 
> Please leave some feedback <3

_‘She said “I don’t know if I’ve ever been good enough  
_ _I’m a little bit rusty, and I think my head is caving in”’_

_-Push, Matchbox Twenty_

🚔

You traced the small crack along the lip of the plate. The dinner set your mother had been so proud of was wearing away. Everything had started to since her death. The farmhouse seemed darker, more desolate amid the sentinel pines, your father’s shed more sinister though the childhood tales of what was within had long since been dispelled. The walls shuddered with each gust of late autumn air.

The house was empty but for you. Your brothers were at about their usual business, Arn and Cal at work at yard and Will in his classes, though more likely bumming cigarettes behind the church. Your father had rumbled off in his old Ford pick-up not an hour ago but hadn’t given you a reason. He never did and it was better that way. Better you didn’t ask questions or speak out of turn. Focus on yourself, in the work that needed to be done as the men bustled in and out of your purview.

You set the plate on the mat to dry, a soapy bubble dripped down the back as you plunged your hand back into the water. You piled the dishes one after the other, scrubbing and scouring. The clink of the thick glass painted with faded petals and the old silverware was thunderous in the chilly kitchen.

You heard an engine, quieter than your father’s cantankerous truck. The gravel mulched under the tires and you grabbed a rag to dry your hands as you walked through the front door. You peeked out the window as the cruiser pulled up; the old black and white with its blue and red crown.

Sheriff Bodecker came around maybe once every two weeks. You didn’t keep track, you never spoke to him. Your daddy always took him to the shed for a beer and a chat. The uniform took a cut of the profits from your father’s sill. The moonshine sold better than the beer sold at the store in town but wasn’t allowed on the shelves. the lawman turned his eye for a percentage and the occasional jug of the brew.

You watched the sheriff brace himself against his door and lift himself out of the car. His jacket was zipped up against the impending winter but could barely contain his stomach. He reached into his car and plopped his hat on his head before he slammed the door. His boots were just as loud as his tires as he rounded the vehicle and paced towards your daddy’s shed.

He turned back, hands on his hips, and peered across the empty lot. The big blue truck always greeted visitors, not that there were many. You watched the sheriff retreat and as he neared the porch, you let go of the curtain and pressed yourself to the door.

Your brothers and your father were the only people in your life. You minded the house and spent your spare time with one of your mama’s old books or a needle and thread. 

The door shook as he knocked. You blinked and slowly turned. You grabbed the handle but didn’t pull. He must have known your daddy wasn’t there. A fool could guess that.

He banged again and you twisted the knob. Slowly, you pulled the door open just a crack. You looked through with one eye as the sheriff felt around impatiently in his pockets.

"Daddy ain’t here,” you said quietly.

He tilted his head and grinned. He scoffed and ripped his hand out of his jacket.

“I guessed that. Be a shit officer if I couldn’t,” he snickered. “Pardon the language, miss.”

“I don’t know when he’ll be back,” you said.

“I got time,” he checked his watch.

There was a moment of silence as he looked at you. You gulped, uncertain.

“Sorry, we don’t get many visitors. Guess I should invite you in… I got coffee? Tea?”

He considered you through the inch between the frame and the door. “You gonna have to open up for that,” he said, “you got anything sweet?”

“Some leftover cake from Arn’s birthday. It’s probably stale.” You answered as he placed his hand flat on the door. “It’s strawberry cream.”

“Mm, you make it yourself?” He asked as his other hand rested on his belt.

“Mama’s recipe,” you explained.

“Well,” he pushed on the door, "Can I come in then or am I eatin’ on the porch?”

You stared at him and slowly stepped back as he put more weight against the door. He dropped his arm as you were flush to the wall and he stepped inside. You looked at his boots as he pulled the door from your grasp and threw it shut behind him. He chuckled as he turned to you again and looked at his feet.

“Not meaning to mess up your floors, miss,” he wiped the treads on the mat.

“It’s fine. My brothers never did care much either,” you waved away his words and retreated, “I’ll get you that cake.”

You went to the kitchen and took the glass lid of the cake dish. That was your mother’s too. The long crack up the side made you want to cry. If she could see how the life she’d left behind had become so distorted. You took a plate from the mat and dried it before you laid it out. You cut a slice from the cake and carefully angled it onto the saucer.

“Should I put the kettle on?” You asked as you looked over your shoulder.

He shrugged out of his jacket and hung it over a chair before he sat. The wood groaned under him. He put his hat on the table decisively.

“You got milk? I had a coffee on the way.” He sat back in the chair and spread his legs wide.

“Milk,” you repeated as you neared and set the plate on the table then grabbed a fork from the drawer. You handed him the silver then went to the fridge, “Should be enough.”

You poured him a glass and put it down beside the plate as he greedily cut a bite out of the sponge with his fork. You went back to the sink and stuck your hands in the tepid water as you fished out the last few bowls and scrubbed them one at a time. You could hear him chewing behind you as the metal hit the porcelain with each bite.

“You really don’t entertain much, do you?” He asked.

“Sheriff?” you pulled the stopped and grabbed the dish towel to dry your hands.

“You know, I go ‘round folks’ houses and the wives, they smile, flip their hair, even excuse themselves to powder up,” he remarked, “And here you are doing your washing. Your back to me and everything.”

“I told my daddy I’d have ‘em done,” you shrugged. “Besides, I wasn’t expecting ya.”

“I rarely announce myself to shiners,” he rolled his eyes, “Must be quite the life, hmm? You cleaning up behind four boys. You look old enough to have a man of your own to worry about.”

“Maybe,” you wrung the dish towel. 

“Most girls your age are outta their daddy’s house and settled down with a babe on their hip. Even two.” He said.

You frowned. “Well, Sheriff Bodecker, are you married?”

He squinted and tilted his head. He smirked and said ‘no’.

“You’re older than me. Maybe you’re the one who’s overdue.”

“Not too old,” he stabbed the last morsel of cake.

You turned away and grabbed a cup and wiped it dry. You went about drying each piece as he sat quietly. You sensed his gaze as you put away the dishes. The tension mounted as you snapped shut the cupboard and he tapped the plate with the fork.

You were relieved when you heard the gravel crunching outside. Your daddy was back. The putter of his old truck was a welcoming sound.

“That should be him,” you said as you went to the table and picked up his plate. 

He set the fork atop it and grabbed your wrist before you could back away. “You take good care of a man.”

You swallowed and resisted the urge to pull away. “Not too many men can take care of themselves,” you uttered.

He laughed and let you go. He stood and you quickly scurried away to dump the plate in the sink. “Probably right,” he said as he took his jacket and pulled it on, “Definitely not in the ways a woman can take care of a man.”

You turned the faucet as the front door clattered. “Sherriff?” You father called down the hall, “You in here?”

“Here, Rhett,” He flipped his hat on and winked at you, “Son of a bitch, I’ve been waiting long enough.”

🚔

There was a cluster of brambles deep in the woods. A carpet of red, orange, and yellow leaves slowly wilted to brown beneath your feet as you climbed through the brush. You clutched your basket in one hand, your fingers cold even inside your gloves as the winter crept nearer with each day. 

You were the old scarf with the uneven edges. The first one you knitted yourself after your mama had shown you how. Your fleece jacket was hand-me-down from Cal, the sleeves were too long and it puffed out from your body when you zipped it, an old oil stain along the left side. Your skirt, your own creation from two of your mama’s, hung to your knees, your stocking barely thick enough to keep out the chill. The heel of your right boot flopped as it threatened to fall off entirely and made the trek all the more treacherous.

You tossed walnuts into your basket every now and then if they weren’t crushed or caked in mud. The trees muffled all noise the deeper you got and the trees loomed darker above. You stopped at the overgrowth of leaves and vines. Blackberries and raspberries hung plump in the last harvest of the season. You preferred the wild berries to the grocers; they were larger and juicier.

You set down your basket as you pushed through the sharp, thin branches and began to pick. You knelt to grab those hidden at the bottom, dumping handfuls atop your collection of walnuts.

You heard a rustle behind you. Subtle, soft. More likely a deer than a bear. You peeked over your shoulder but didn’t give much heed to the disturbance. There was always some creature flitting around in the forest. You tuned back to your work, your gloves dappled with the dark juices of the berries as some were so soft the burst on touch.

The bushes behind you shook and a twig snapped.

“What you doing out here all alone? I thought you were a bear.”

You stood as you recognized the voice. You dropped the berries in your hand into the basket before you turned and clapped off your gloves. “I thought the same of you.” You blanched as you saw his gun in hand. “You hunting out here with that?”

Sheriff Bodecker looked down at his pistol and scoffed. “Maybe,” he looked up as he kept his gun in hand, “How you know about these berries?”

“They’re wild. There for the taking,” you turned back and pushed through the brambles as you plucked berries from the bunch, “Mama used to take us here when we we’re kids.”

“You lookin’ to make another cake?” His boots crushed the leaves and sticks as he neared.

“Conserves; jams,” you answered bluntly as your basket filled with each handful. “Too bad strawberries are all gone for the season.”

You sensed him watching you as you stooped again. He reached down to your basket and took a raspberry. He popped it in his mouth as he straightened. You glanced over, his gun was pointed at the ground but still in hand. He knocked it gently against his leg as if thinking.

“Tart,” he said, “I prefer strawberry. Sweeter.”

“Mmm,” you grumbled as you dug through the bush, “Well, they charge too much down at the grocer for ‘em.”

It was quiet but for you pushing past the bramble and filling your basket. You could hear him breathing above you as he watched, transfixed by your simple ritual.

“Never told me why you’re all the way out here,” you said as you contented yourself with your haul. “Should I be worried? Some criminal out here hiding in the branches?”

“Sitting by the river on my break, as I do,” he shrugged as you lifted your basket. “It’s a far way back to your daddies. My cruiser’s closer. I can take you home.”

“I prefer the walk. Gives me an excuse to be away.” You smiled and made to step past him.

“We can take our time,” he caught your arm.

“Thank you, Sheriff, but I can find my own way back.”

He turned you to him and raised his gun. His eyes searched your face as he pressed the muzzle to your cheek.

“Ain’t much on the first look but after a while, you’re not so bad,” he said as you stiffened, “If you didn’t dress like a matron, you might even be pretty.” His gun fell to the collar of the jacket. “Usually men don’t offer favours to girls who ain’t pretty.”

“Let go of me,” you pleaded softly, “Sheriff…”

He pointed his gun skyward and released you. He holstered the pistol and laughed to himself.

“You go on lift up that skirt and give me a good look. Then I’ll drive you back to your daddy’s. You have my word as an officer of the law.”

“Pardon–”

“Shhh,” his hand lingered on the pistol, playing with the little strap that would snap it into place, “No one needs to know. Just a peek.”

“Sheriff–”

“Girl,” he cleared his throat, “Ya gonna do what I tell you or I’m gonna make you do worse. Now go on.”

He snatched the basket out of your hand and you let out your breath, relieved at least that he no longer had his fingers on his pistol.

“It’s cold out–”

“You argue with your daddy this much? He don’t seem the type to bide it and let me tell you, he seems a lot more tolerant than me.” He took another berry and chewed it, “So lift your skirt and we’ll be on our way.”

You stared at him. He smirked and licked the dark juice away from his lip. You hands shook as you bent and clumsily felt your skirt. You gathered the hem and stood. You bunched up the fabric around the bottom of the coat and he tutted in satisfaction.

“Turn around for me, girl,” he softly swung the basket, “Bend over so I can get a nice look at you.”

“Sher–”

“I really don’t wanna knock ya around and you don’t want that either,” he warned. “Two seconds. That’s all it will take.”

You gulped as bile burned your throat. You turned, careful not to catch the loose heel of your boot, and held your breath. You bent forward slowly.

“Further,” he ordered. The thin cotton of your underwear stretched across your ass. “Well, you got a much nicer backside than I expected.”

You let out a sharp breath as he pinched your ass and you stood suddenly. You stumbled forward and dropped your skirts. He laughed as you spun to face him. He shoved the basket against your chest. 

“See how easy that was,” he leered at you as you took the basket. “Who you hidin’ that body from? Maybe your daddy’s a selfish man, hmmm? Keeping you from all the men.”

“Can we go?” You muttered as you tried to hide behind the basket.

His blue eyes bore into yours and he shifted on his feet. His hand rubbed the front of his pants as he side stepped you.

“Sure, cruisers ‘round the bend.” He waved you past him and waited. “Come on, you said you wanted to go.”

You walked past him along the trail and he followed, close as his loud breaths filled the air. He pointed you down the path with curt orders and you came into sight of the broad river. His car was parked just off the sideroad that led back to the town. 

His keys jingled as he brushed by you, dragging his hand across your rear as he did. He opened the passenger door and looked at you. You neared and quickly got in, sitting on the long seat within. He closed the door harshly and rounded to the other side. The car dipped with his weight and he shoved the keys in the slot.

“Come here,” he gestured with two fingers, “Closer.”

“What?”

“Put the berries down,” he pointed to the other side of you and you placed the basket on the seat.

“I should be home sooner than later. I gotta start cooking–”

“I’ll get you there,” he grabbed your arm and slid you over the seat. He flipped his hat off and dropped it over the basket. He slung his arm over your shoulders. “Go on, put me in first.”

He gripped the wheel with his other hand and you blinked dumbly. You realised what he meant and pushed the shifted into gear.

“You cold? You’re shivering,” He said as he carefully turned the car, “Just tryna warm you up, girl.”

“I’m fine,” you crossed your arms as he drove at a snail’s pace up the dirt road.

“I’m cold,” he gave an exaggerated ‘brrr’, “Do me a favour. Unzip me.”

“What?” You tried to pull away and he bent his arm around your neck, his hand along your chest as your head was nearly on his.

“I’m hard as fuck. You did that. Now take care of it.” He growled. “Get these damn pant unzipped and finish it.”

“Let go–”

“You don’t start listening and I’ll tell you’re daddy what a whore you are. Up in the woods flaunting your ass to the wind.”

You stared down at your stitched skirt. Your mama’s. You only wore her clothes. They were modest. You’d once worn a dress your friend Laverne had given you, more modern, with a shorter skirt. Your daddy belted you until it was ruined.

Your hands trembled as you felt along the Sheriff’s stomach and fumbled beneath. You unbuckled his belt clumsily and found his fly ready to burst. You pushed his zipper down as he groaned and he lifted his arm over the seat. His underwear was tight to his bulging cock.

“Now don’t keep wastin’ my time and take me out,” he snarled.

You pulled the elastic down and he popped out above it. You hesitated as you stared at his throbbing tip.

“I don’t… I don’t know what to do.” You confessed.

“Christ, girl,” he snickered, “Grab it and just… move your hand.”

You shuddered and wrapped your fingers around his cock. It was as thick as the rest of him. You gripped it but still had no idea what to do next.

“Up and down. Like your polishing a shotgun,” he urged, “A nice long barrel.” You bit down and slid your hand along his length. “Tighter,” he gritted through his teeth, “Faster…”

He purred as you played with him. He drove a little faster and steered with one hand as his other hand clawed the back of the seat.

“Fuckin’ don’t know, girl, feels like you know exactly what to you,” he uttered, “Got me close already.”

You stared at the middle of the steering wheel, the silver emblem, and tried not to think about what you were doing. His hand fell to your back and he caressed the back of your coat. He grasped the cloth in his fist as his grunts grew louder and longer.

“Grab that coffee cup,” he demanded, “Go on, you don’t wanna make a mess.”

You took the cup with one hand and popped the top off with your thumb. It flew onto the floor and he hummed.

“Hold it at the tip, before–” He choked on his words and you quickly moved the cup. 

He hit the brake and white ribbons streamed from his cock and laced the rim of the cup and your fingers. White globs slid down the paper and you slowed as a chill went through you. You pulled away your slimy hand and the cup. He took the latter and tossed it out the window and sighed.

“Shit, girl, that was good,” he reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. He wiped his glistening cock before covering himself up and zipping up his pants. “Get cleaned up.” He tossed the cloth on your lap, “Not far from home, now.”

🚔

Your days passed like molasses. Ever since your venture into the forest, your life slowed to an interminable pace. Your thoughts were darkened by the sheriff’s shadow. You scrubbed, scoured, and swept but could not rid yourself of the memory. The scene played over and over in your head. You swore you could feel him still spread across the palm of your hand.

A week after, when he drove up behind the boys on their return from town, you watched through the window in dread. Cal, Arn, and Will hopped out of the truck and greeted the sheriff. The four of them went to the shed where your daddy was, the latter peeked over at the house as he passed.

You were reassured that your brothers were there. The sheriff wouldn’t, really couldn’t, try anything more. You went back to basting the thick chops. As you made to cap your homemade sauce, the back door opened and your daddy looked in from the mud room.

“You bring out some glasses for the lot of us. And put an extra chop on for the sheriff,” your father slurred. He’d already started drinking. “He be joining us tonight.”

He left before you could respond. He usually drank his swill out of old jars and saved your mother’s dishes. You coated another chop in spice and set it with the rest before slipping them in the oven. You washed your hands and counted out five glasses. You hugged them in your arms and stepped into your boots. 

You pushed the screen door open with your elbow and tramped down the steps. You crossed to the shed and kicked the door with your boot. “Daddy,” you called through the wood.

Will slid open the shed door and you stepped inside. You went to the table and placed the glasses down on the old chipped surface. You stood and looked around. Your father filled each with the clear shine from a large jar.

“Isn’t he a bit young?” You said as Will sat back down.

“Not your business, woman,” your daddy spat, “Go back in the house. To your business.”

“Yes, daddy.” You sniffed and looked at Will. He gave an apologetic smile but none of your brothers ever stood up against your daddy.

“Lady not joining us?” Bodecker asked.

“Ha, that girl gets a whiff of this stuff and she’d be on her back. This ain’t no drink for ladies,” your daddy chortled. “About time you tried it. What you been doin’ will all that swill I give ya.”

“Boys at the station like it. I think they’re some of your best customers, ain’t they?” Bodecker countered. “Besides, I been tryna stay clear of the drink.”

“One night won’t hurt,” your daddy coaxed.

You went back to the door and slid it shut behind you as the men continued to chatter. _Well, they would at least drink themselves too senseless to bother you much._

🚔

You cleared the table of the empty plates and scraps left by the drunken men. They had been loud and raucous, so much so you’d eaten your dinner at the counter to avoid them. When they finished, they left in a stumble, though the sheriff seemed as steady as ever as he trailed behind. He stopped at the door as he held it and peered back from the mud room at you.

You washed the dishes and put them away. You wiped down the table and fixed the chairs around it. The night was moonless and eerie. The wind wailed and shook each window and door in the house as it seemed to blow right through the walls.

The mud room door clattered again. It had been over an hour since the men returned to the shed. Their voices no longer carried in the air but the shed remained alight from within. You turned as Bodecker closed the door. He carried a tall glass of swill as he stopped in the door frame.

“Lightweights,” he said, “All your men passed out. Think one of ‘em pissed in their pants.”

“You’re drunk,” you said as you kept behind the table.

“Not really. I couldn’t finish mine,” he crossed to the other side of the table and set down the glass, “Why don’t you finish it for me?”

“I don’t drink that stuff,” you said, “Dump it out on the grass.”

“You work so hard. You should have a little fun,” he rounded the table and slid the glass across it as he neared, “Come on. Have a drink.”

“I don’t–” He grabbed you suddenly, wrestled you down into a chair and held you there by your shoulders.

He lifted one hand and felt around his belt. He flicked his holster open and rubbed the pistol with his thumb. 

“Drink it.” You watched his hand on his gun. He slid it out just a little. “Ugly things men do when they drinking. “Playing with guns… sometimes don’t always end up so fun. Don’t think the young one would make it in the hold.”

“No, you–”

“Drink,” he sneered. “It’ll loosen you up.”

You reached for the glass and he nodded. He snapped his holster closed and pulled a chair over to sit in front of you. You put your lips to the edge of the glass and the alcohol stung your nostrils. You tipped it, slowly, and tasted it with a gag. It was vile, stringent, and fiery. He pushed it up with two fingers until you were choking on it. He didn’t let up until the glass was empty and the shine dripped down your chin.

You slammed the glass down and coughed. You touched your throat as your head spun and a warmth nestled in your cheeks. You tried to shake away the haze that washed over you.

“That’s it, girl,” he purred as he leaned forward, “You feel better, don’t you?”

“N-no,” you stammered as you gripped the chair.

“’Daddy’,” he said, “Girl, you had me hard in there… you too old to be callin’ that man, daddy.” He stood and shrugged off his leather jacket, “But you be right to call me daddy.”

“I don’t feel…” Your stomach burned and you tried to stand. You stumbled and he caught you.

“Don’t you get all jumpy on me, girl,” he sat you back down. “You gonna hurt yourself.”

You slumped in the chair and braced your head. You felt terribly dizzy and your inside were alight. You heard a jingle and looked up as Bodecker unzipped his pants. You recalled the day in the car and filled with panic. You stood again and this time staggered, falling onto your knees with a cry.

“Mmm, it’s okay, girl, you can stay down there,” You looked up as he pulled his cock out through the vee of his pants, “Come here.” He grabbed your chin and yanked you forward, “Open up.”

You snapped your mouth shut and tried to wriggle free of his grasp. His other hand came up behind your head and he pulled you close. His fingers spread across your head and he used his other hand to poke his cock against your lips.

“I’ll break that pretty little jaw of yours and tell your pa he did it,” he growled, “Now come on.” You shook your head and he slapped you, hard. He seized you again. “Open!”

Your mouth fell open and your vision blurred as he shoved his cock inside. He forced himself down your throat and you kicked your feet as you grabbed at the front of his pants. He groaned and held his cock at its limit.

“And I thought you were good with your hands,” he pulled back and thrust back in. Your eyes rolled back as they teared up and you choked. “Mmm, much better.”

He started slow at first, though each tilt of his hips was relentless, deep and painful. You struggled to breathe around him and it only seemed to feed his lust. He gripped your head between his hand as he fucked your mouth, the sloppy sounds made your head swim as the slobber leaked down your chin and his shaft.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he pulled out of you suddenly and shoved you away. You fell back onto your ass and wiped your mouth. “You tryna end this night early or something.”

He let out a breath and watched his cock bob before him as he grunted.

“Get up and get your drawers off.” He ordered, “Then I want you like you was in the woods, huh? Skirt up.”

You wavered as you tried to climb to your feet. He caught your errant arm and pulled you up. He spun you and you swayed. He bent and his hands crawled up your skirt as he felt around. He ripped your underwear down and let them rest at your ankles. He turned you to the chair and pushed you forward. You fell and caught yourself against the seat. He threw your skirt up and bared your ass.

Your legs quaked as he pressed his hand between your legs and felt around. He rubbed your cunt as you squeezed him with your thighs. He pinched you and drew away.

“You don’t wanna make this harder than it needs to be girl,” he sneered, “You’re in no state for that.”

He stepped closer and bent over you. His arm wrapped around your middle as he felt around below you with his other hand. He caught the tip of his cock and guided it to your cunt. He pushed it along your folds, sliding it up and down until he found your entrance. You whimpered and pushed back against him, too weak to break free.

“You fight and it’ll hurt more,” he grunted as he pushed his tip into you and you yelped. “Fuck, you’re tight.” Another inch and he stopped as he took a breath, “Holy hell, girl, you really weren’t lying. You ain’t been touched.” 

He growled and inhaled the scent of your hair as his hand gripped the chair next to yours. He thrust into you in a single tilt and you exclaimed as he stretched your walls. You reached to the back of the chair and latched onto the crossbar as you tried not to sob.

He stood, slowly and pushed deeper into you as he grabbed your hip. His other hand kneaded your ass as he began to rock. His groans were as steady as his motion as he dipped in and out of you. He curled his fingers and dug his nails into your flesh as he panted, his stomach bouncing against your ass.

“Be as loud as you want, girl,” he barked, “No one gonna hear you.”

He rutted into as the chair shifted below you. He kept a hand on your hip as his other trailed up to your shoulder and he arched your back. His zipper bit into your flesh as he sped up, slapping against you harder and harder as you whined louder and louder. It hurt terribly and your entire being thrummed with an unknown sensation. 

You closed your eyes as your vision swirled and your arms shook. He pulled you back so you stood against him, your back curved as he hammered into you. You were on tiptoes as he didn’t let up and turned you against the table. Your fingertips brushed the top as you reached out blindly and his hand stretched across your neck as he forced your head back against his shoulder.

“I’m gonna cum, girl,” he hissed, “You fucking whore. You’re going to make me cu–”

He grunted and his hips spasmed as a warmth seeped into you. He gave several, final snaps of his hip and slowed. He fell forward with you bent beneath him against the table. Your legs were limp as he crushed you with his weight. His heart pounded through his chest and he gasped for breath. 

You sniffed and pushed back against him. You were suffocating. You needed him off of you. You needed him out of you. 

“We ain’t done yet,” he hooked his arm around you and pulled you back to sit on his lap as he fell into the chair. “You got two minutes to get me hard again or you can clean me up with your mouth.”


	2. Pull

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: noncon sex, oral, violence, abuse, and death.
> 
> This is Lee Bodecker (who is already dark!af) and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
> 
> Summary: The sheriff keeps coming around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so probably a three-parter. I didn’t intend for this to go beyond a one shot but same old story, eh.
> 
> Hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Love you guys!
> 
> Please leave some feedback <3

_“Oh what the hell she says_  
_I just can't win for losing  
_ _And she lays back down”_

_-Her Diamonds, Rob Thomas_

🚔

You stared out the window. The trees along the edge of the yard were pale and barren, a sheet of frost laid over the ground. There was a wailing in your head. The tears blurred your vision and your fingernails curled into the lip of the sink.

"Goddamn it, girl," you flinched at your father's voice. "The kettle's fucking screaming."

You pushed yourself away from the sink and shook away the haze. You turned the knob and moved the kettle to the front burner. You took off the lid of the percolator and poured the piping water inside. You left the coffee to brew and turned your back to the stove.

"Are you alright?" Will asked as he cut up his eggs with his fork.

"She's fine. She just ain't wanna do her work." Your father growled through a mouthful. "Way she's been draggin' her ass lately like the rest of us ain't work a lot harder than rinsing a pan or sweeping a dang floor."

"I've been doing all that, daddy." You cringed after you spoke. Not just because you knew you're father wouldn't like it but because that word, 'daddy', tickled that memory in the back of your head.

"Try to do it without makin' a bigger mess," he snarled. "Your ma raised you better. She was still here, she'd be shakin' her head."

_Not just at me,_ you thought but kept it to yourself. You turned and filled the four cups lined up with coffee. You set each before the men at the table. Your brothers thanked you, your father grumbled for the sugar. You set the dish in the centre of the table and backed away. 

You would eat after them. A bowl of porridge with cinnamon as your daddy went to his shed and the boys drove into town. Your only peace for the day although you hadn't had any since that night.

Six days. You counted each in your head. Laying in your bed, sleepless. Even after almost a week, you still felt the Sheriff's intrusion. You were still sore; bruises on your ass and thighs, a hole deep in your being. You closed your eyes and you were bent over the chair or the table. Your skin crawled and your stomach flipped. You couldn't shake the terrible shadow from your mind.

They left without ado, the boys in an argument over Mr. Calver's new car and what year it was. You cleared the table and sat to make yourself eat. It was hard but after a two day fast, you'd almost passed out against the burning stove. So you ate without tasting and washed the dishes.

You found yourself gazing out the window again. Snow began to fall and you shivered. You looked down, your hands mindlessly in the dishwater that had long turned cold. You pulled the plug and dried your pruned hands. 

The gravel crunched outside as the wind battered flakes against the window panes.

Your heart dropped. It used to be weeks between visits, sometimes a whole month. As of late, Sheriff Bodecker had taken to visiting more often. You were never very vain but you suspected it might be on your account. _How could it not be?_

You went to the door and peeked out the tall window beside it. It was him. The lights atop the cruiser and the emblem painted across the door. It was early but every visit was unexpected.

He looked at the house and you let go of the curtain. You pressed yourself to the door and listened. His footsteps trailed away and he knocked on the shed door. Your father answered in his usual gruff demeanor.

You felt brittle as you pushed away from the door. You walked to the stairs and looked up. The carpet was worn away by years of steps taken up and down. You leaned against the railing as you climbed. _Don’t think about the man below and perhaps he wouldn’t think of you._

You took a cloth from the linen closet at the end of the hall and began to wipe down the plates that decorated the wall. Each was painted with a landmark; Niagara Falls, the Eiffel Tower, the Statue of Liberty, the Pyramids in Giza. You focused on cleaning each, even as your hands shook and your legs threatened to crumple.

His hands on you, his sickly sweet breath, his body crushed against you. You gripped the plate with the image of the Coliseum. You stared at the hundreds of windows, the falling facade. Your eye overflowed and the door below slammed.

You sniffed and set the plate back in the hooks. You wiped your eyes with the sleeve of your sweater and wiped the top of the side table. Thick soles climbed the stairs and a figure stopped in your peripheral. You turned as Lee peered down at you, fingering the heel of his gun as he neared.

“Your pa said I could use the facility,” he said.

“Behind me,” you said quietly as you picked up the vase and wiped the inside. 

“What’re you doin’? Tryna hide from me up here?” He tapped two fingers on the table.

You shook your head and put the pot down. You looked at the old sepia picture of your parents beside it.

“You know, I was wanting to come back sooner but… duty calls.” He lowered his voice as he leaned close, “There’s not much to do sittin’ around in the cruiser. I end up thinking of you. Wishin’ it was your hand down my pants instead of mine.”

“Sheriff,” you breathed. “Please, don’t--”

“You mad ‘cause I been gone, I get it. Not right of a man to be with a woman than just leave her waitin’,” he touched your cheek as you looked away. “You smell nice.”

“You better do your business and get goin’, sheriff,” you uttered. “I got laundry to do.”

“No point in actin’ all coy anymore,” his hand stretched over your jaw and he forced you to look at him. “And I can’t hold out much longer. You remember the river, where I take my break, you meet me there at midnight, after your pa’s asleep.”

“It’s snowing,” you argued.

“I don’t care if it’s a goddamn blizzard. You come find me or I find you,” he snarled and his hand slipped down to the top of your dress. He undid the top two buttons and squeezed your tits together as he watched them with a lewd leer. “I gotta pay more attention to these… but that ass is so nice.”

“My daddy--”

“Half drunk, as usual,” he huffed, “I could fuck you on his bed right now and he’d be none the wiser.” He purred and admired your tits as he bounced them. “Midnight… I’ll keep the car warm for you.”

He winked and dropped his hands, his palm brushing over the front of his pants and causing him to groan. He turned away and unbuckled his pants as he entered the bathroom. He kicked the door closed and you whimpered.

If your daddy found out what had happened, even if it was the Sheriff, he’d string you up by your knickers.

🚔

You found the flashlight under the stairs and waited until the house was filled with snores. The old standing clock ticked as you counted down the hours sat on the stairs across from the front door. The snow wasn’t thick but enough to make it slippery. With the night, the temperature dropped and seeped in around the windows. It would take you a while to get through the woods.

You opened the front door carefully. You wore the old hand-me-down coat and your heavy boots. You hated the forest after dark. When you were kids, your older brothers like to tell tales of grisly murders and other atrocious acts there. You’d since learn much of those were fantasy but it didn’t make them any less sinister.

You flipped the flashlight on as you neared the trees. You hit it twice to get the bulb alight. You pointed it ahead of you and followed the glow like a beacon. If your daddy knew what you were about, if your mama was alive to know it… you could hardly bear it yourself.

Your teeth chattered as the bitter wind swept under your skirt and you crossed your free arm over your middle. You hunched against the cold as flakes began to fall once more. You heard the river ahead of you and came out onto the dirty shore.

Bodecker’s cruiser sat waiting, his flashlight on the dash as it lit up the interior. You saw him in the yellow haze as you neared. He got out as he spotted you and rounded the car. His breath fogged before him and he rubbed his hands together.

“Got the heat on, not that you’ll be cold for long,” he said, “Come on,” he opened the back door and reached for the flashlight. You handed it to him as he waved you into the car. “On your back.”

He was out of pretense, out of patience. You sat and shimmied back on the seat. He got in behind you and pulled the door closed as he huddled on his knees on the seat. He was bent awkwardly as he grabbed at your skirt.

“Common, let’s get these off,” he reached up and grabbed the waist of your wool tights and jolted them down your thighs. “It’s so fucking cold. I don’t know we can keep to the car through the winter.” He left your tights at your knees and tore down your underwear. He pushed your legs up so they hung around him, the wool stretched across his stomach. “There’s a hotel in town. We can drive in…”

His voice trailed off as he fumbled with his pants. He grunted and planted a hand beside your head as he bent over you. He slapped the tip of his cock against your cunt as you turned your face away from him. You pressed your lips together. Better to have it done with.

“What’s the matter, girl?” He grabbed your chin and turned your head. “Open your eyes…” he rubbed his nose against yours and pushed against your entrance. “Look at your daddy, girl.”

“Please--” You opened your eyes and begged. “Please, don’t make--”

He impaled you and let out a long groan. You yelped and as you curled beneath him and he sank to his limit. It hurt just as much as before. He hit the same bruises as he began to thrust.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he said with each tilt of his hips, “You don’t know how I’ve been thinking about you.”

He pushed himself up as he continued to move against you. He unzipped your coat and unbuttoned your blouse with some difficulty. He ripped your jacket, shirt, and brassiere strap down your shoulder. He grabbed your tit as it fell loose and toyed with your nipple. He flicked with his thumb and circled the hard nub.

“You need to dress yourself up, girl,” He purred between thick breaths. “Show off what you got. Just for me, no one else.”

“I can’t-- I can’t--” You squealed as he sped up and sent a pang up your spine. “Ow, ow, ow.”

“I ain’t care about your pa,” he murmured, “I’ll buy you something nice, hmmm? Then I can fuck you in that.”

You blinked away the tears as they threatened. This man could use your body but he wouldn’t see you cry. You hadn’t truly done that since your mama’s funeral. 

The car rocked with him. He crushed you into the seat as his feet hit the door. He was too tall to be crammed in the back of the cruiser atop you but it barely seemed to matter. The leather of his coat squeaked as he hammered into you and the scent of his sweat permeated the air. 

He dropped down on you, smothering you as his hips kept going. He nuzzled your ear and gave a throaty grunt. He came and slapped the seat beside your head. He slowed and went limp over you, out of breath as he shuddered.

“Mmm, can I use my cuffs on you next time, girl?” He lifted his head and tickled your temple. “Hmm? You can be my perp?”

You stared at him, mortified. You nodded, unable to speak.

“Tomorrow,” he rasped, “I won’t wait another week.”

🚔

Your nights belonged to the Sheriff and the days had never truly been your own. Two weeks of his sick game, trekking through the dark, cold woods to his cruiser by the frozen river. Face down on his seat, cuffs behind your back, him behind you, on top of you.

That day, he’d been by to see your father. He found you in the kitchen before he went. “Forget the underwear tonight, girl.” That was all he said before he left you to dread him again.

The same path, the same bobbing light before you, the knot deep in your gut. You were as sick with yourself as you were with him. You let him use you. Maybe you didn’t have a choice but you didn’t fight. You just laid there and waited for him to finish.

As you walked through the woods, you still jumped at every snapped twig and every rustle. It all seemed louder that night. The wind was wild and the branches shook above, no leaves left to block the moonlight.

He took your jacket off that night. You shivered and he cuffed your hands behind your back. He bent you over the hood and hiked up your skirt. Your thigh highs began to sag as he entered you. Your cheek nearly stuck to the cold metal of the car as he pushed your head down.

“Fuck yeah, girl, you like when daddy fucks you?” He snarled as he slapped your ass. The open zipper of his jacket brushed your skin and his pants scratched the top of your thighs. “Hmm, you like being a whore?” He tugged on the cuffs as he fucked you harder. “That’s it.”

He snorted and slowed. You sensed a disturbance and he reached to his loose belt.

“Who’s there?” He called out as he slipped out of you.

“I fucking knew you was sneakin’ around,” Your father’s voice cut through the air. “Might be with a policeman but it don’t make it any better, you tramp.”

You tried to stand and Bodecker pushed you back down. “She’s a grown woman and times are changin’, Rhett. Why don’t you go back home? You know I’ll get her there safe.”

“Home? Uh uh, she can stay out in the cold. I won’t have no whore under my roof.”

“Now, let’s not be rash, Rhett, I’ll take care of her. You won’t have to. I was just--”

“Everyone knows about you, Lee,” your father barked, “This where you take your other whores?”

“I’m a changed man,” Bodecker insisted and you heard a subtle snap. You watched as their shadows got closer in the dark lit up only by the flashlight thrown onto the ground. “She’s--”

“You can keep her. Maybe you can find a man who will buy or sell her when you’re done.”

“Don’t be sayin’ that--”

“You fat fuck, don’t you--”

You were deafened by the sudden bang and your ears rang as your father’s body slumped to the floor. You stood with some trouble and stumbled back. You heard your father gasping as he twitched in the dirt. Bodecker turned and caught you before you could stepped away from the hood.

“I didn’t tell you to get up,” He growled as he bent you over the hood again.

“Daddy!” You cried out. “What did you do? Daddy--”

“I told you,” he pressed the gun to your head and poked around until he slid back inside you, “He ain’t your daddy no more.”

Your boots kicked in the dirt as he fucked you. The cold metal of the gun had you frozen, your eyes on your father’s body as the life slowly drained from him. You closed your eyes as his last, moist breaths escaped him. You bit down; you couldn’t cry, not even then.

You didn’t even notice as Bodecker finished and backed away. As his cum leaked from you and your legs folded. You fell onto the cold ground and he hauled you up into the back seat. He slammed the door and got in the front.

“Daddy…” You muttered.

“Pity. You never know what scoundrels are hanging out in the woods after dark,” Bodecker said as he started the car. “That’s some bad news to wake up to, isn’t is, girl?”

“Wh-why-why?” You stammered.

“Shhhh, you gotta be quiet, girl,” he coaxed, “‘Specially when drop you off. Better not wake any of your brothers, right?” He was quiet for a moment and cleared his throat loudly, “Right?”

“Right,” you whispered as your sticky thighs rubbed together, “Right, right, right…”

🚔

“Now, girl, you go inside and put your clothes in a bag and wash yourself up.” Those were Bodecker’s instructions as he dropped you off. 

You didn’t remember doing it but you awoke with damp sheets and a bag by your bed. You rolled over, stiff from the night spent tense and rolling back and forth. It hadn’t really been sleep. More shock.

You laid there. Numb. You heard the gurgling again. Saw the lifeless black form of your father’s body in the dirt. It wasn’t real. You’d go downstairs and he’d be there. Once you put on the coffee he’d get up and demand a cup. It couldn’t be real.

You sat up and kicked the bag under your bed. You wore the grey dress with the pleats, a black sweater over it, with black stockings, and your mary janes. You descended the stairs one at a time and put the kettle on the stove. You stared out the window. It had snowed more in the last hours of the night.

You got out the tray of eggs and the sausages. You searched for the large skillet and Will walked in with a yawn. He was always the first up. You stared at him as he sat at the table. You tried to say something, maybe you said ‘good morning’, and then you went back to your work.

Arn and Cal came shortly after. None of the three mentioned your father’s absence. It wasn’t that unusual. Sometimes he drank too much, sometimes he had been up for hours or hadn’t slept at all. You served them and added the bacon grease to the jar of lard.

_Where was he?_ He couldn’t be there. In the dirt. In his own blood. Dead. _No, he was going to come right through that door._

You heard the tires before the knock. Your heart raced as reality closed in around you. Arn got up to answer it and came back with the sheriff. He didn’t even acknowledge you as he nodded at the men around the table.

“Pa’s not awake yet,” Will said and chewed the edge of a strip of bacon.

“Well, I think…” Bodecker hooked his thumb in his belt, his stomach sticking out awkwardly, “I think we need to talk about your pa. Can I sit?”

“Course, sir,” Cal said, “Should be enough fixins if you want some.”

“No, no thank you,” Bodecker sat heavily and sighed. He was an effective actor. “Look, your pa… well, we don’t know exactly what happened but… we all agree he must’ve been drunk.”

“What’s goin’ on?” Arn snipped, “What do you mean? Pa is here--”

“You remember when he went to bed last night?” Bodecker asked.

“Well…” Cal frowned and looked at his brother. “Well, I think I laid down before him.”

“Me too,” Arn said.

“I’m always the first asleep,” Will added. “Same with my sister.”

You gulped as the sheriff finally looked at you. “Well, you know we had them flyers around town for the longest time about the woods. About the criminals we got hangin’ around these days and there’s really no easy way for me to say it but it looks like your pa ran into one of them last night.”

“All the way out in the woods? But why?” Cal asked.

Arn’s nostrils flared as he shook his head. “Because he got no sense. You remember last summer. We found him face down in a bog out there. Took the three of us to get him out.”

“Yeah, but so late…”

“You know how he’s been since ma.” Will intoned.

You were dizzy. You grabbed onto the counter as your legs turned to liquid and you cried out. “No!” You fell to your knees and touched your forehead. You knew it was real, you’d seen it, but you had wanted so badly for it to have been a dream. A nightmare.

Will was the first at your side. Bodecker helped him lifted you back to your feet and get you to a chair. Arn and Cal watched in concern.

“You sure it was our pa?” Arn asked.

“I’ll save you the sight. I can assure you it’s him.” Bodecker said as he rubbed your shoulder and Will stood over you. “She should be fine. Get her some water. It’s the shock. You know the ladyfolk and their temperaments. They aren’t so equipped for things like this.”

“Any idea who? Why?” Arn prodded.

“Don’t think your pa had the sense to take his wallet but his belt buckle was gone and we can’t be sure what else they took,” Bodecker took your hand and caressed the back of it, “Honey, you drink tea? You want your brothers’ get you some?”

“I-- I--- You--You--” You stuttered.

“Come on, boys, let’s get her laying down,” Bodecker said as he stood. “She’s just havin’ a moment.”

Will and Cal lifted you out of the chair and carried you to the sofa in the front room. You were stiff as a board as they angled you onto the cushion and you could only babble at the ceiling.

“Go get that tea going, Will,” Bodecker ordered, “Cal, you go get her something to keep her warm.” Arn stood in the doorway and watched. “And Arn, get some wood for the fire. We should get it going.”

The boys dispersed as you laid across the couch. Bodecker touched your shoulder and you latched onto his wrist.

“You--” You hissed.

“Shhh, I only did what I had to. What you made me do,” he whispered, “‘cause you weren’t careful.”

You turned your head back and forth and squirmed. “No, no, no! You raped me! You killed my daddy!’

He covered your mouth and leaned over you. “Shut up! Shut up!” He sneered and his other hand went to your throat. “Now you got your clothes in a bag.” You nodded with wide eyes. “Good. I’m gonna take your brothers into town and you’re gonna burn them. Got it?” You nodded again. “And you’re gonna shut up.”

He released you roughly and stood as Cal came in with a blanket and tossed it over you. Bodecker helped straighten it and looked around.

“Think y’all should come back with me. We can get you sorted at the station then see about the caretaker.”

“All that already?” Arn asked.

“I ain’t rushing. Bodies don’t keep long, though. Investigations neither. We’ll get some statements from you boys and you’ll be free to choose what you wanna do from there.”

🚔

Will stayed home from school to keep watch over you. You didn’t know what was wrong with you. When your ma died, you didn’t feel this empty. You had cried for her, mourned for her. But now all you could do was sit there. _Was it your fault?_ Even if Bodecker had pulled the trigger, you had brought your father there. You had been so concerned with keeping the sheriff from telling your secret, you had failed to hide it yourself.

Bodecker stopped by almost daily. He claimed it was to ask more questions or check on the family but you didn’t miss the way he looked at you. The way he made the excuse to be in the same room when he talked to your brothers. The way he shifted on his feet and peered around the house in silent triumph.

On the fifth day, you made Will go to school. He shouldn’t miss class because of you. He was the only one out of the boys who had ever read a book full through. So you saw them off, a proper breakfast for them for the first time since that horrifying morning, and you went about the list of undone chores.

You looked out the window at the shed. Your daddy never said much to you but you were used to his presence; the noise of his activity just outside. You couldn’t blame him for his faults, he’d fought a war, he’d worked hard, and he’d lost a wife. And now he was dead because of you.

You were scrubbing the floor when you heard the engine and the rubber treads on snow. You didn’t stop as you tried to scour away the salt stains and layer of dirt from the hallway. Boots clambered up the stairs and you kept your head down. 

No knock, no warning as Bodecker opened the door. You looked up at him as he kicked the snow off his feet.

“You’re up and about today,” he said in a pandering tone.

You said nothing and focused on your work. He took off his jacket and hung it on the rack in the corner. He wiped his boots on the mat and watched you. He hummed as he tapped his toe.

“I like that. You on all fours.” He taunted.

You sat back on your heels and dropped the rag in the bucket. “I got cleaning to do, Sheriff, and if you don’t recall, my daddy’s gone… for good.”

“Oh, I know it,” he said as you lifted the pail and he followed you to the kitchen. “But do you? Do you really know it?”

You dumped the water down the sink and plunked the empty bucket on the floor. “I know it and I know who done it. I saw you. How could you?”

“Your brother Arn’s gonna get the house in the will. He’ll be lookin’ for a wife soon. Means Cal’s gonna have to get his own place, take Will with him or get a wife of his own. And you? Where does that leave you?”

“There’s jobs for me out there, I can clean, I can cook, I’m sure I could waitress,” you argued as you crossed to him. You grabbed his arms and tried to shove him. “Go. You don’t need to worry about me. I’d prefer it if you left me alone all together. You got what you wanted, Sheriff.”

“Not all of it,” he smirked. “You gonna drive yourself mad with all this.”

“What do you care?” You slapped his chest with both hands. “You don’t care about no one but you. You killed him!” You hit him again, “You killed him!”

He grabbed your upper arms and shook you. “You shut up about that now. You say anything again and you’ll be lyin’ beside him. If that ain’t enough, I’ll put your brothers there first.”

You reeled as if he’d slapped you. Your lip quivered and you sucked it in to keep from sobbing. “What do you want from me? I never wanted any of this.”

“You can’t know what you want, girl,” he wrenched you back and turned as he dragged you through to the living room. “So let me show you what you want. What your new daddy can do for you.”

“Get off of me!” You wrestled with him as he angled you around the couch. He shoved you and you fell back onto the cushions. “Leave me alone!”

He forced you back as you tried to stand and grabbed your chin. He squeezed as he looked down at you.

“Take them bloomers off now,” he ordered. “And hush your mouth.” You gaped up at him. He turned his hand and rested it against your cheek. “There’s one sure way to knock some sense into a woman,” he slapped you lightly, “You can decide if this lesson is an easy one or not.”

You sat back as you shrugged away his hand. You winced and lifted your pelvis and slipped off your underwear. As you did, your stockings bunched at your knees. Lee watched you with thick breath and purred. He knelt down and pushed your legs apart.

“Put your arms up. Just across the couch. Relax.” He directed as he got closer. “I wanna show you somethin’ makes the girls happy.”

“What are you--”

“You stop asking questions before I make it so you can’t. Now,” he squeezed your knees and his hands slipped up your thighs as he urged them further apart, “Just don’t think. Just sit there.”

He lifted your skirt over your head, one hand still on your legs. His warm breath tickled your pelvis and you squirmed. He pinched you and you exclaimed. You stilled and he slid his tongue down your cunt and poked between your folds. You choked on air as he dragged the tip of his tongue around your bud and your legs tense as your feet tried to arch in your flats.

He delved more firmly into your pussy and you grabbed onto the sofa. Your heart sped up and you pushed your pelvis out without thinking. You looked down at his head draped in your skirt as his mouth made sloppy noises. You felt a strange tingle as he kept on and your neck was pricked as you filled with guilt. It should feel good, whatever he was doing.

“Stop, please, Sheriff,” you begged.

He lapped hungrily as he ignored you and his hands gripped your hips. He pushed you into the couch as he devoured you and drew your pleasure to a point on his tongue. Your breath hitched and you moaned without thinking. You wanted him to stop but more, you wanted him to keep going.

And he did. He seemed to enjoy it just as much as your core pulsed. Your fingers dug into the cushion and your toes curled. You cried out, a voice that didn’t sound like yours, and rocked your pelvis against his face as you were overcome with delirium. You’d never felt so delicious.

Every ounce of strength drained from you. You panted as you slouched against the couch and he pulled away. Your skirt slipped from his head and his lips shone with your juices. He rubbed your legs and watched you writhe as your nerves were overwrought.

He stood with a grunt and unbuckled his belt. He licked his lips and tilted his head. “I knew you wanted me and now you know it too,” he said, “Now you show me that ass. You know I can’t resist.”


	3. Pressure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: noncon sex, oral, violence, abuse, and death.
> 
> This is Lee Bodecker (who is already dark!af) and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
> 
> Summary: Life changes and you’re swept up in the tide.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Alright, here’s out final part! Lee is such a bastard man.
> 
> Hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Love you guys!
> 
> Please leave some feedback <3

_“You left a stain_  
On every one of my good days”   


_-Disease, Matchbox Twenty_

🚔 

Arn had quickly taken up your father’s mantle as a moonshiner. When he got home, he went to the shed and tinkered with the sill. He met with the same men your father had and even began to act like him. Quiet, terse. He ordered you and your brothers around as he emulated the dead man.

Will had grown quiet. In those days he spent at home with you, you’d noticed how distant he seemed. He was the youngest, the sweetest. When your mother had passed, he had been the most distraught but he seemed numb to your father’s absence.

And Cal; Cal was just as oblivious as ever. You almost admired how he always went through life without heed for the past or future. He only seemed to live in his own little bubble as he floated along; untouched and unaffected by the taint of Knockemstiff.

And you, you were just an afterthought in the lives of the men around you. You cleaned after them, cooked for them, and saw that all was in order for them to exist. They didn’t give a second thought to their dirtied dishes or torn trousers. They just left them for you to tidy and mend.

And Bodecker. You hated just the thought of him. Hated the way your stomach churned as you recalled that mighty heat he’d stoked within you. The feeling you knew was so wrong. _How could you feel that way when he was touching you? When you didn’t want him to touch you? You didn’t want it, right?_

Your nightmares were stained in your father’s blood. You woke with a start at the gunshot as it echoed inside your head. Every morning without fail. Visions lingered as you dressed; the gun, Lee’s voice, the blood seeping into the dirt. You shuddered and pressed your hands to your face.

 _Had it really been so long?_ A month already.

You descended the stairs and yawned into your sleeve as you hugged yourself in the early morning chill. It was early, the men would not rise for another hour or so.

Maybe not. You heard the crackle of a log and the whisper of a page being turned. You stood in the doorway of the living room. Will sat on the rug before the fire, bent over a book as the flames licked behind the grate.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he spoke before you could. “But I’m almost done my book.”

“That’s good,” you neared and lowered yourself beside him, “What are you reading anyway?”

“Lord of the Flies,” he marked his page, “I think… I think it’s about good and evil. If people are born one or the other, you know?”

“Oh?” You crossed your arms over your knees.

“Yeah, I mean, if we were allowed to make our own rules, would we make them for us or the for the good of everyone?” He wondered, “Because even with the rules, we do the worst, don’t we?”

“I suppose but… the rules don’t really make much difference around here.” You snorted. “Not in this town.”

“You think it’s different somewhere else? In the city? Maybe in another country?” He chewed his thumbnail.

“I like to hope so, not that I’ll ever know,” you said, “Is this about daddy?”

He shrugged. He dropped his hand and stretched his long legs before him. “All the good went with mama.”

“Don’t say that,” you admonished.

“It’s true. How many times did he take the belt to you? And why? Because you made him think of her.”

“You really think that?”

“He was nasty to all of us,” he sighed, “But nastier to you. And I can’t even be sad that he’s gone.”

“Death is hard, Will,” you touched his shoulder, “It’s hard to know what you’re feeling about it. Sad ain’t so clear as it should be. It could be staring at the wall or tossing and turning in your bed or sitting up in the early hours and readin’ some book by yourself. It’s not always a feelin’, sometimes it’s in the things we do.”

“It’s just a book,” he muttered.

“But you lookin’ for daddy in it, ain’t ya? Askin’ if he was good or bad.”

“I know he was bad,” Will said, “It’s why I don’t feel bad for him. Probably ran his mouth at whoever it was who gave him what he got.”

“Don’t talk like that,” you took his hand and squeezed, “Please. For me.”

He looked at you. The light of the fire flickered in shadows across his face. “You know, you never had to take care of him. Or us. You should got out and married.”

“Maybe I didn’t have to,” you sidled close to him, “But how could I leave my little brother, hmm?”

“I’m a man now. Almost.” He said. “Arn won’t let you stay. I know it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Him and Rose from the diner. He’s gonna marry her. Won’t be no place for you here. Or Cal. Or me.” Will said. “And I’m gonna go work down at the yard. Or maybe the factory.”

“You should finish school.”

“For what?”

“You’re the only smart one. You could find your way. Get a degree.” You urged. “You should do all of that. You shouldn’t stay here.”

“And leave you behind?”

You sniffed and hung your head. “No, I’m grown. I’ll find my way and I won’t get in yours. You got half a year left. You’re too close to quit.”

“I don’t know…”

“Mama always wanted you to do something big. She always said you were special.” You said. “A lawyer? Maybe even a doctor. Imagine that.”

He was quiet. He squeezed your hand and wobbled his foot as he thought. “You should leave too. Leave this town. We could both go once I’m done school.”

“No, no, you can’t be takin’ care of me.” You argued.

“Why not? You’ve taken care of me.”

“Because that’s what women do. I promised mama I would.” You liked the idea of leaving but it was terrifying. Even if you did have that courage, you knew you wouldn’t be gone for long. And if fate didn’t bring you back, you expected something, or someone else, would. “If Arn decides to toss us to the curb, I’ll see you through the rest of the year and then you’re gonna go out and make mama proud.”

He nodded and leaned back on his hands. “I know no one else ever gave you a chance but you should start givin' yourself one. You’re too good for us. Too good for everyone in this damn town.”

🚔

When the Sheriff showed up next, you were alone. He walked into the house without knocking, as had become his habit, and sat at the table as you prepared a roast for dinner. He watched you silently and you tried to ignore him. You were waiting for his command. 

_How did he want you? What vile things would he do to you that day?_

“When’s the boys gettin’ home?” He asked.

“Soon,” you answered as you turned on the oven. 

“You got something sweet,” he reached in his pocket and pulled out an empty wrapped.

You slid the cookie jar towards you and plopped it before him on the table. “Made ‘em last night. Chocolate chip.”

“You’re always so good to me,” he smiled and you choked down your revulsion. “Too bad it took me so damn long to get here. I really wanted to have some fun.”

You turned back and opened the stove. You slid the roasting pan inside and snapped it shut.

“Them dresses you got, they really do nothin’ for ya,” he said through a mouthful of cookie, “‘cept when you’re bending over.”

“Why are you here then?” You crossed your arms as you turned back to him.

“I gotta talk to your brothers,” he said, “But let’s be clear on something, girl. You don’t ask me my business unless it’s to do with you.”

“I know about you,” you sneered, “Everyone does. Why don’t you get one of your whores and leave me alone?”

The chair nearly toppled as he stood and tossed down the cookie. He rounded the table and stomped over to you, cornering you against the counter.

“You’re my whore,” he snarled, “You got that?” He pinched your tit roughly. “Now, if I wanna, I can bend you over right now and let your brothers see what a whore you are.” He grabbed your chin and pushed his body against yours. “You should be flattered, you know? I ain’t touched another bitch since I been in you.”

You bit down and glared at him. Your lip curled but you said nothing.

“I ain’t gonna leave you alone,” he rocked his body against yours and exhaled. “What do ya think is gonna happen if I do? If I toss you out like the used bag you are? You got me or you got nothing. No man’s gonna marry a flower without her petals.”

He pushed harder against you until you could feel his bulge through his pants. His stomach crushed you against the counter. He leaned in and kissed you. You were shocked by the gesture, disgusted at how you could taste the chocolate on him.

“I really need to fuck you,” he growled as he drew away, “Fuckin’ hurts so bad.” He pushed himself from you and turned as he cleared his throat. The loud rumble of the Ford truck called from just outside as it pulled in. “Guess that means I’ll have to pay you back in kind.” 

You narrowed your eyes and went to the fridge. You poured him a glass and slammed it down as the front door opened and the boys’ voices mingled in the hallway. Bodecker drank deeply and cleared his throat as he watched you retreat.

Arn entered first, followed by the other two as they chattered noisily. “...in the shed, we-- Sheriff Bodecker,” Arn shook the sheriff’s hand as he stood. “Figured you were waitin’ for us. You know, we got everything sorted with the shine.”

“That’s good to hear but sadly I’m not here about that,” Bodecker said, “Other business. ‘Bout your daddy.”

“Ah, okay,” Arn glanced over at Cal as Will took a seat at the table and grabbed a cookie from the jar. Your youngest brother looked at you as he took a bite. “What’s, uh, what’s goin’ on?”

“Well, we think we got the prick who did it,” Bodecker began and you stiffened, “Found your daddy’s belt buckle and same caliber gun. Some rat down by the tracks. Been arrested before for robbin’.”

“You found him?” Cal asked, “Well, suppose that’s good.”

“We will be chargin' him to the full extent of the law. Shouldn’t see a free day ever again.” Bodecker said. “Out of courtesy, I figured I’d tell ya before the papers ran the story.”

“Thank you, Sheriff,” Arn said. “You know it’s been tough tryna get everything together since he been gone but… this’ll be good for all of us. Now that we have some peace about it.”

“Oh, you got big plans?” Bodecker asked.

“House is mine now. Figure I need a wife. And the boys… well, they gotta go find a place of their own, ain’t they?”

“Mmm,” Bodecker hummed, “And your sister, too.”

“We have an aunt. I’m sure she could use the company.” Arn said.

“What?” You sputtered, “You just gonna send me away to live with Darlene?”

“What else am I gonna do with ya?” Arn barked. “If I got Rose here to do my cookin’ and cleanin’, I don’t see the use in keepin’ you around. Don’t know why daddy didn’t find someone to take ya before.”

“I ain’t askin’ you to do nothin’ with me,” you huffed, “But I ain’t goin’ to Darlene’s. I’ll go out on my own. I’ll clean someone else’s floor and get paid for it in more than spit and stupid.”

Arn snarled and Will stood slowly from the table. Cal squinted as if lost.

“Now, now,” Bodecker clapped Arn’s shoulder, “Lots to be done, lots to be done. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. This is a lot. Big news. I say, take some time, have some of that shine your daddy left you, and calm down, huh?”

Arn looked at the sheriff and shook his head. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right, I s’pose.”

Will lingered by the table, his eyes never left his older brother as his hands balled into fists. You neared him and touched his arm softly. He glanced over at you, his face tensed with anger.

“I won’t let him do it,” he whispered. “I told you, we can get out together.”

“So let’s give it a day,” Bodecker boomed, “I’ll be back tomorrow. We’ll talk business and… well, I think you’ll be happier after we have all that figured out.”

Arn nodded and shifted his weight.

“You got big shoes to fill,” Bodecker said, “Gotta make sure you get ‘em laced on right.”

🚔

As promised, Bodecker returned the next day, this time after your brothers. He joined them in the shed, a relief as you worked at stitching one of Will’s shirts. Cal appeared as you held up the shirt and eyed your work. You sensed his shadow and dropped the fabric to your lap.

“Dinner’s almost ready,” you assured him.

“You need to come out to the shed,” he ignored your promise of a hot meal and you frowned. 

You stood and slung the shirt over the chair. You grabbed your jacket and boots and followed him out the door. You hadn’t been to the shed since before your daddy died. Your teeth chattered as you slipped through the door and Cal slid it closed behind you. Arn sat in your pa’s old armchair, Lee on a stool, and Will on the crooked bench with a space free for his other brother.

“I don’t know why she needs to be here,” Arn said, “But she is, so let’s get on.”

“Well, the only way you’re gonna expand across the county is through me, Arn,” Bodecker talked as if he were addressing a child. “And I’m up for re-election. That means we need each other. Means we need to set this little partnership we have down in stone.”

“How’s it that you need us, sheriff?” Cal asked as you swayed by the door.

“Well, my reputation ain’t exactly pristine. I need to tidy up the edges,” Bodecker leaned forward and twined his fingers together. “I’ll see that you get your shine from one end of the county to the other and I’ll also take a little weight off your shoulders. I need a wife and your sister needs a new home.”

Your mouth fell open and even Arn seemed surprised by the proposal.

“No,” Will said, “You can’t… you can’t marry her.”

“I don’t see why not. She’s gettin’ up there in years, I don’t see anyone else lining up.” Bodecker chortled.

“Because she--” Will looked at you helplessly. “She deserves to be happy.”

“I don’t think any woman be unhappy being the sheriff’s wife,” Bodecker hissed, “Won’t be no different than her cleaning up after y’all. If anything, it’ll be easier.”

“Take her,” Arn said, “Two birds, one stone.”

“And Cal, I’ll get him on the force by the end of the year. Always good to have another set of hands.” Bodecker continued. “He’ll make good enough money to get outta your hair.”

“And Will?” You said. All the men turned to look at you. “He’s gotta stay in school.”

“School ain’t shit,” Arn scowled.

“I don’t see why he can’t finish,” Bodecker said. 

“I ain’t takin’ care of him,” Arn said. “He either gonna work for his lot or he can live outside.”

“Say what you want about daddy, but at least he had the decency to see to us,” you said. “You think you’re the big man now he’s gone.”

“You better shut your fuckin’ mouth if you know what’s good for you,” Arn stood and the sheriff did too. He stepped in front of the younger man.

“She’s grievin’. You know the ladies don’t handle all this so well,” Bodecker said, “I’ll see after the kid. I was gonna up my take to twenty percent but I’ll settle for fifteen if you keep him on.”

“Up your take?” Arn scoffed.

“We’re gonna be family and I’m gonna make sure none of my officers get in your way. Boy, that’s gonna mess with numbers, you get me? You can’t get without givin’.” 

Arn lowered his chin and looked between you and Will. He blinked slowly.

“He got a roof till he’s done school. No longer than that.” Arn sat back down heavily, “And you be best to get a leash on my sister and quick. The sooner she’s out of my house, the better. Rose is getting awfully antsy.”

“Y’all got a date yet?” Bodecker said.

“Wait? Just like that? You’re gonna marry me off--”

“Fuck’s sake. You ain’t never know when to shut up!” Arn hollered as he reached for a jar of shine.

“And you’re gonna drink away your years just like daddy,” you snapped.

“Hmm, maybe, but you’re gonna do what I tell you and get on your back for our sheriff.” He spat, “Or I’m gonna dump you on the corner and you can see who else will have you.”

“Arn, you can’t--” Will began.

“You two can go off and see how far you make it,” Arn bit back, “I’m done arguin’. The next person pipes up, I’m gonna tar ya.”

You looked at Will and shook your head. You knew what wasn’t being said. If you didn’t do what you were told, it wasn’t that you’d be out of your home. You wouldn’t have anything. The sheriff had a stranglehold on every citizen in the county. He’d make sure you were helpless until you were forced to grab his outreached hand. You’d take what he gave you, as you had to that point.

“Fine…” You uttered, “You know what mama would think, Arn. As much as you think daddy’d be proud, you know she wouldn’t.”

“Go back to your kitchen,” Arn took a gulp of moonshine, “You got a month, Sheriff. You get her out and you got your fifteen.”

🚔

You didn’t expect your wedding day to be so gloomy. A winter ceremony in the town church with a man you didn’t and couldn’t love. You’d always thought you would wear your mother’s old gown but he wasn’t worthy of that. So you wore the plan dress from the local shop with a short veil and a pair of white flats.

The sheriff had done his best to clean up for the ceremony. Freshly shaved, hair combed neatly, his stomach barely continued above his cumberbund. This man, your husband, your jailer. 

Your brothers sat in the first row as you listened to the priest. Your vows were nothing special, the same template handed out by the church. To love and obey. Only one of those would be true. You stared at the loose stitches of the veil, your surroundings blurred beyond the white lace.

You hated Arn for trading you away like livestock but you knew deep down your father would’ve done the same. He would’ve done worse. You recalled his last words; he would’ve had you on the street. Maybe this was the best you could hope for.

The room came back into focus as your veil was lifted. Your husband kissed you. He still sent a shiver up your spine every time he touched you. You turned back to the audience, his hand around yours as he led you between the rows of strangers. Your brothers were the only familiar faces though they were hardly welcome. 

Arn had quickly taken up your father’s part in mistreating you, Cal was his mindless followers, and Will, you only saw pity in his eyes. Bodecker guided you between the pews and the doors open to the frigid winter afternoon. He ushered you to the waiting car and was quick to climb in behind you. There would be a dinner awaiting you at town hall; a whole room rented out for the occasion.

“So,” Bodecker’s hand settled on your thigh, “Are you wearing it?”

You nodded. He had brought you the lurid attire only nights before. A lacy brassiere and satin panties, stocks and frilly garners; all in as if you were still a virgin. He stretched his arm over your shoulders and pulled you close.

“It’s gonna just be you and me, honey,” he purred, “No more hiding.”

“Yes, Sheriff,” you spoke into your lap.

“Lee, or sir. No need to act strange anymore,” he dragged his nose up your cheek and his hot breath choked you. “I can’t wait until tonight. I’ve been holdin’ it in so long, god, I could blow now.”

“You know I hate you, don’t you?” You looked at him dead in the face.

A smile slowly spread across his face as he played with the hem of your veil. “Well, don’t really matter now, does it?”

🚔

Bodecker, Lee, your personal tormenter; whoever he was, ate as you avoided the same. You felt too sick to do anything but wait out the night. You accepted the congratulations of family and friends that weren’t yours and bided your time as he did all the talking. You expected your new life would be filled with these people eating out of the hand of their sheriff in hope that he didn’t swat their heads.

He drove you home in his cruiser. A strange end to a strange state of affairs. His house was large and closer to town. It was more modern than your father’s old farmhouse but not so tidy. A man living on his own didn’t have time to do his dishes before his wedding or put his used socks in the hamper

He closed the door behind you as you looked around. Cleaning was never a pleasure for you, an obligation, a ritual which kept you from dwelling on the bad. At that moment, you wanted to clean up the mess of this man’s life to keep from dealing with your own.

You jumped as he slapped your ass hard enough to make you stumble. You rubbed the stinging flesh beneath your dress and drew away from him. He caught your arm before you could go far.

“The bedroom’s through there,” he nodded to the doorway on the other side of the room, “A lot better than the car… and the coffee cups… hmmm?”

“It’s all the same,” you muttered.

“It gets better each time,” he pulled you against him and groaned. “You’ll see it soon. You’ll feel it.” He leaned in and his hot breath tickled your lips. “Go to the bedroom, get that dress off and wait for me.”

He tapped your ass and let you go as he turned away. He removed his jacket and hung it as you watched his back. You looked at the door. _Where would you even go?_ Your mama once told you marriage wasn’t for love, it was practical. A roof over your head. _What more could you ask for?_

You walked down the hallway and stopped to look at the picture. The fresh-faced corporal didn’t look like the ruddy cheeked man with the wrinkle above his brow. Even in black and white, his eyes seemed brighter then. You tore yourself away and found the bedroom at the end.

You supposed you were different too. Different from yesterday, different from a month ago, a year ago, ten years ago. So much could change in so little time. 

You reached back and unhooked the top of your dress. You struggled to undo each button along your spine as the fabric drew taut across your stomach. A week ago, the dress had seemed looser, same with much of your wardrobe. 

You shimmied out of the dress and folded it over the walnut dresser. You looked down at yourself and the underwear better fit to the racy scenes in the theatre. You didn’t dress like this. You weren’t Marilyn or Elizabeth. You were just you and you were entirely out of place. 

You slipped out of your shoes and unpinned your veil. The ring on your finger chafed your skin. You sighed and turned to sit on the bed. It bounced beneath you as you toyed with the diamond. Say what you would of the man, it had all been adequate. More than.

“You look good,” Bodecker said and you raised your head as he entered. He began to undress as he strutted across the room. “Wife.”

He unbuttoned his shirt as he neared the bed. He looked down at you with a smirk as his bowtie hung loose from his neck.

“You know what would happen if I didn’t marry you?” He pulled his tails loose and wiggled out of the shirt. He tossed it away with his tie, his stomach poking out slightly from his undershirt. “I mean, you could have my bastard inside you right now. You think anyone else wants it?”

Your eyes widened and your lashes fluttered. You bunched up the blankets in your hand as you teetered on the edge of the bed. You shook your head.

“You see, unlike all those whores, you got more than what’s between your legs,” he unbuckled his belt and undid his fly. “You work, real hard. And despite yourself, you’ll always need someone to take care of.”

He reached into his underwear and rubbed himself before pulling out his cock. You closed your eyes as he groaned and reached out to caress your cheek.

“Open your mouth, honey,” he purred. “Let me show how a wife serves her husband.”

You hesitated and he gripped your chin. He squeezed, a warning, and you opened up. He pressed his tip against your lips and pushed so that you let him in. His skin was salty and warm as it slid over your tongue. He hit the back of your throat and your eyes welled.

“Mmm mm mm,” he hummed, “That is good. Come on… just a little--”

He grunted as he forced himself down your throat. You choked and he shuddered as his hands held your head firmly. He moved his hips carefully. He slid back and slammed back in. Your eyes rolled back and you tried not to gag as he repeated the motion, each thrust harder than the last.

“Fuck, girl, I love that mouth,” he cooed, “Now it’s all mine.”

He pulled you forward as he pushed himself as deep as he could. He jerked into you even harsher than before and you grabbed the top of his pants. He dragged you off the bed and you fell to your knees. He fucked your face and shoved your head back against the mattress. He planted a hand on the bed and hammered into you over and over. Slobber spilled down your chin and you slapped helplessly against his thigh.

“Fucking take it,” he growled.

Your vision began to spot as you went limp and he stopped suddenly, halfway down your throat. He snarled and slipped out of your mouth and let you drop to the floor. You leaned forward as you coughed and his belt jingled as he stripped off his pants.

He stepped past you and climbed onto the bed. He fell heavily on his back as you looked up and bent his hands behind his head. His cock stood, glistening, and he grinned.

“Better climb on, girl,” he said, “We ain’t done yet.”

You grabbed the edge of the bed and pulled yourself up. One knee, then the other, you crawled over to him. It was the first time you’d seen him entirely naked. You stood shakily and reached to the top of the satin panties.

“Ah,” he tutted, “Just pull ‘em to the side.”

Your brows drew together but you didn’t argue. Your only hope was to bide him until you were on your own. Make yourself numb to his company and you could reward yourself in your solace.

You got down on your knees and reached between your legs. You took him in one hand and pushed your panties aside with other. You paused as his tip prodded at your entrance then lowered yourself onto him. You withdrew your hands and the satin was taut around the side of his shaft. You stilled and tried to adjust to the fullness.

“Well, come on,” he grabbed your hips and tilted them, “Move.”

You carried the rhythm and rocked atop of him. Your crumpled panties rubbed against your clit and added to the storm brewing in your core. His hands swept up your sides and he cupped your tits through the lace bra. His thumbs rubbed your barely concealed nipples and he groaned.

“Shit, it’s so good, honey. So good.” He moved his hips beneath you, “Faster.”

You obeyed and he tugged down the cups the brassiere. He pushed his head into the pillow and gritted his teeth. He grabbed your sides and pulled you to bend over him. He nuzzled your titts and nipped at the tender flesh. He took a nipple in his mouth and sucked as you kept your hips moving.

His hands skimmed over your curves and he gripped your hips. He pulled your ass down harder and you flesh clapped against his loudly. He turned his head away as your breast hung over him and you sped up. You were close. So close.

“I’m gonna cum,” he rasped, “I’m gonna--”

You threw back your head and cried out as you orgasmed first. You dug your nails into his arm as you fucked him through your climax and felt him burst inside of you. That joy, that second of joy, was enough to forget, a spark of happiness before it all came back.

You slowed and stilled atop him, out of breath. You sat up, the straps of your bra sagging down your shoulders as he tickled your thighs.

“You know,” he poked his finger between your legs and flicked your overwrought clit. You twitched and he chuckled. “I can’t wait til you got my child inside of you. Seein’ you all big. I’m still gonna fuck you.” His other hand rubbed your stomach, “If you’re anything like your mama, we’ll have a whole herd of our own.” He licked his lips as he took your hands and placed them on his chest. “But you remember, your husband always comes first.”


End file.
